


Laundered

by astudyinfic



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Canon Divergence, Laundromat meeting, Love at First Sight, M/M, Miami-Zane, Or at least lust at first sight, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 21:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17670257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: When everything goes to hell in Miami, Zane finds himself at a laundromat in the middle of the night, trying to get blood out of his clothes.But a shoot-out between the cartel and the FBI becomes the second most interesting thing to happen to him that night when he realizes he's not alone.  And the fact that handsome stranger on the other side of the laundromat is wearing next to nothing easily distracts Zane from his own problems.  At least for a little while.





	Laundered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mindfluff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindfluff/gifts).



> Thanks for the prompt mindfluff. I hope I did it justice!

Zane kicked open the door to the laundromat, muttering Spanish obscenities under his breath as he made his way inside.  Three months of undercover work blown. The regional office got him out but not before a firefight left several new gashes along his ribs and arms, and tore holes in one of his favorite shirts.  So he stepped into the laundromat at two in the goddamn morning, trying to get the last of his things cleaned up before someone from DC came to pull him out of this cesspool of a city...once and for all.  

God, he needed a drink.  Or to get laid. Maybe both.  Though, neither of them would be happening that night.  He had clothes to clean and a contact to meet up with. Four hours until he was supposed to meet the other agent at the diner down the street.  Zane figured he might as well just stay at the laundromat until then. There was nothing left for him at the shitty apartment he’d been living in since he arrived.

Despite the heat, he kept his leather jacket on.  While not many people would bat an eye in this part of town to a man packing two guns as well as knives strapped to his wrists, Zane figured it best to keep as low a profile as possible and the thin t-shirt he wore underneath would hide very little.  The cartel was scrambling now, but they would reorganize far quicker than the Bureau expected and Zane didn’t want to be the one to take the fall. 

Literally.

Three bullet wounds were enough for one night.

His arms loaded with bloody clothes and a container of peroxide, Zane dumped everything into a washer and turned it on.  If he could save the clothes, fine. If not, then he’d buy new ones when he got to DC. Not that it mattered, but taking his anger out on the bloodstains was better than taking it out on someone who might actually fight back.  Once the machine was started, he turned to survey the rest of the room, a testament to how upset he was. Normally scouting the room would have been his first priority but at the moment, death would almost be a blessing considering he’d be stuck in one of Burns’ debriefings for the next umpteen days.  

The room was empty but for one other man, sitting on a table off to the side.  From where he stood, Zane could tell he was well built, muscles moving under the bare skin.  And there was  _ a lot _ of skin.  During his time in Miami, Zane had seen a number of things that would have surprised him anywhere else.  He thought he was immune to shock by now. And maybe he was. But lust? No, it was quite clear that lust was something Zane still fell victim to if the man in front of him was anything to go by.

Either oblivious to Zane’s gaze or just letting him look his fill before meeting his eyes, the man sat there, swinging his legs off the edge of the table, humming something that Zane couldn’t quite make out over the sound of the machines.  Not that Zane was trying too hard to listen to him. He was far more focused on the fact that the man in question was sitting in front of him in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. 

At four in the morning.

At a laundromat in fucking Miami.

“Bad night, Hoss?” the man asked, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.  The twang of his voice made Zane certain he wasn’t from around here but that didn’t mean much.  Not many people were actually  _ from _ Miami.  Most people simply ended up here, whether they wanted it or not.  That was certainly true for Zane. He would never come back here if he had anything to say about it.

He raised his eyes to meet those of the other man, momentarily struck speechless by the warm hazel eyes that greeted his gaze.  He was by far the most attractive man he’d seen since a certain unforgettable night in New Orleans. Zane thought he even put that performer to shame.   _ Of course, I would meet him when I am four hours away from extraction, _ he thought miserably.  Though, that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a quick fumble in a dark corner of the laundromat if the man was amenable.  

“You could say that,” Zane replied, realizing he’d been asked a question.  A glance at the window showed exactly what the man was seeing when he looked at Zane.  His hair was mussed, some of it still caked with blood; both his own and that of the cartel members who didn’t leave that warehouse alive.  A bruise bloomed dark under his left eye and his split lip still oozed slowly, despite having been caused two hours prior. 

“I could ask you the same question.”  Zane’s eyes trailed from the man’s bare feet up his body to meet his eyes.  Not many people would be sitting at a laundromat in their underwear in the middle of the night without a damn good story behind it.

The man shrugged, apparently unconcerned with the way he looked.  “Nothing that interesting. In town for only a day with no change of clothes.  Have to work early in the morning so it seemed easier just to stay up all night.  Went to a bar and ended up smelling like cheap beer and cigars. Can’t very well show up to work smelling like that, now can I?”  The drawl in his voice, the strong muscles shifting under his skin, the hint of mischief in his eyes; this man was the very definition of desire as far as Zane was concerned.

“On the contrary, that sounds like a much more interesting story than mine.”  Taking a chance, Zane stepped forward, extending his hand. This close, he could see a bulldog tattoo on the man’s arm, something he wouldn’t mind getting an even closer look at some time.  “I’m Xand...Zane.” He supposed with his cover blown and the cartel in shambles, there was no need to use his alias. He’d be out of Miami by the time the sun rose. Nothing left to hide.

The man’s eyebrows jumped.  “Zane?” Zane braced himself for the mocking that often accompanied people hearing his name for the first time.  No matter how often he told them it was a common name in Texas, people still seemed to find it weird. “Zane Garrett?”

Now he was on edge.  No one in Miami knew his name.  He knew the three FBI agents who were privy to his file and none of them looked like the man in front of him.  Taking a step back, his hand reached for the weapon under his jacket. During his time in the cartel, Zane learned to shoot first, ask questions later and right now, every warning alarm blared inside his head.  

“Whoa, Hoss.  No need for that,” the man said, holding up one hand while reaching behind him for something.  Zane’s hand wrapped around the grip of his gun, ready to draw if he turned out to be a threat of any kind.  “Special Agent Ty Grady. I think I’m your extraction plan.” He held up a badge identical to Zane’s own and his chest relaxed a fraction.

Zane froze, looking the man over with a new eye.  His muscles would certainly do well in the field; and now that he was closer, Zane could see the scars that marred his skin.  “So, is this how you normally meet the people you’re supposed to extract?” Zane finally asked, a small smirk pulling at his lips.  “Because I am ready to go willingly just after looking at you.” A risk, to flirt with another agent. There was a chance to be written up, reported for sexual harassment.  But if - after everything he did in Miami - this was what got him fired, Zane would take that chance.

Ty’s brows reached for his hairline and his eyes went wide for a half second before Ty managed to school his expression into something more neutral.  “ _ Not _ the first impression I was hoping to make but...”  He trailed off with a wry grin and Zane knew at that moment that he was lost.  It was the same feeling he had when he met Becky and he was having it again now.  He was going to fall in love with this man and there was nothing he could do about it.

Realizing that the only other person in the place was also a Federal agent, Zane shrugged out of his beaten up leather jacket, setting it off to the side.  His weapons now clearly visible, he was surprised to see that Ty’s eyes weren’t on them, but a little to the left focused on Zane’s upper arm. “I should have known they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing,” Ty muttered under his breath, jumping down from the table where he’d sat all this time.  Standing, his boxer briefs left little to the imagination and Zane looked away and willed himself not to be aroused by the very vivid image he had of pulling them off and having Ty to himself. 

Instead, he tried to focus on Ty’s words, not the man saying them or how they were said.  “Who didn’t know what the fuck they were doing?” he asked as he caught up with the conversation.  

“The people who got you out.  Or are you one of those martyrs who waves away all medical treatment because you’re too much of a tough guy to bother with a few stitches?”  As Ty spoke, he ripped the sleeve off Zane’s shirt with minimal effort, tossing it to the ground. “You’re still bleeding and they called me about this six hours ago so it was one or the other.”

“They’re the ones who nearly got me killed.  Pardon me for not thinking they were up to the job of fixing me up afterward.”  Zane had done the best he could and planned on cleaning the wounds a little more before meeting up with his contact.  Obviously, those plans had now changed.

Ty rolled his eyes and pointed Zane to the table.  “Sit down there, tough guy, and let’s get that cleaned up.  No sense in attracting more attention by walking around bleeding all night.”  Zane sat in front of the small pile of personal effects Ty had scattered on the table.  Keys and guns, his badge and wallet. And a small kit that apparently contained whatever it was Ty needed as he reached around Zane to grab for it.  The movement put him almost flush against Zane and Ty’s breath ghosted over his neck as he did. Zane couldn’t completely repress the shudder that went through him at the proximity.

Situating himself to stand between Zane’s knees, Ty set the kit on Zane’s thigh and then tugged at his shirt, attempting to pull it off.  Considering the line of thought Zane’s mind had taken, it wasn’t a surprise that Ty smirked at him knowingly. “Maybe later. I’d prefer you not bleed all over me.”  

Gentle fingers pulled the bandage from Zane’s arm and he hissed as it tugged at the wound.  A slow trickle of blood ran towards his fingers and Zane gritted his teeth. The sooner Ty finished this, the sooner he could get on with something more interesting.  

Whether that was kissing Ty senseless, dragging him to a darkened corner of the laundromat or whether it was finally getting out of Miami once and for all, Zane didn’t care.  

“This needs stitches.”  Ty’s voice was professional and detached which helped Zane focus on the matter at hand and not his body’s very inappropriate reaction to Ty touching him. Though, when Ty shifted to grab a needle and suture from the kit, Zane could feel the other agent was having a very similar problem.  

At least he knew this wasn’t one-sided. 

“Just wrap it up.  It will be fine. Not like I don’t have a hundred other scars.  It will blend right in.” Zane was in no way a vain man. He didn’t care what he looked like, particularly since he assumed he’d be thrown right back into the field the moment they cleared him for duty.  

Ty eyed the wound suspiciously then shook his head.  “Nope, that’s getting stitches. You can agree and let me do this the easy way or I can knock you out and do it while you’re unconscious.  I think this would be a lot more fun for you if we did it the easy way but either way, I’m going to enjoy myself so take your pick.”

With an annoyed huff, Zane turned enough that Ty could reach the gash easier.  He hated stitches. Aside from the initial pain of getting sewn up, they tugged and itched and were generally uncomfortable for what felt like months.  Zane avoided them whenever possible but it seemed Ty wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time. 

“I knew you were smarter than you looked.”  Ty grinned and patted him on the head. “Now, would you like to take something first?  This is going to hurt.”

Zane shook his head.  “No, just get it over with.”

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Zane breathed as best as he could through the pain.  That first prick of the needle was always the worst, but having your skin stitched back together never felt good, no matter the situation.  He focused on Ty’s hand on his arm, the heat of his body warming Zane’s own, the look of intention on his face. With each stitch, Zane felt his desire for the man growing until it was all he could think about.  The pain of the wounds and the sutures faded to the background, simply an annoyance to be ignored in favor of something far more pleasurable.

Ty dropped the needle to the side and spread some unpleasant smelling ointment on the wound before covering it in fresh gauze.  “That should hold you until we get to DC.” Ty looked back up and Zane registered the exact moment when Ty realized how close they actually were.  His eyes wide, Zane thought he saw hope in them, though it could only be his own wishful thinking. 

Giving Ty a chance to pull back if he wanted, Zane rested his hands on Ty’s hips, pulling him slightly closer.  Every calculation he ran through told Zane this was a bad idea. But he’d made bad decision after bad decision since arriving in Miami and saw no reason to stop now.  Besides, if he was reading this right, Ty wanted him too. If not, he’d get punched in the face at best, written up at worst. Neither compared to everything else that had happened that night, so Zane was willing to take that chance.  

Zane leaned in, as did Ty, and the two met somewhere in the middle, a chaste kiss before pulling back to stare at one another intently.  When they reached a silent agreement, Ty dove back in, dominating the kiss in a way that had Zane moaning without thought. One of Ty’s hands gripped Zane’s hair while the other wrapped gently around his shoulder, ever mindful of his injuries, even when lost to their passion.  Zane tugged him even closer until they were pressed together, hands sliding up and down the vast expanse of skin that was Ty’s back.

“Not the first impression I was hoping to make but...” Ty muttered against Zane’s lips, echoing his words from earlier but in a much different context.  Not that Zane was complaining. His only complaint right now was that he didn’t have any lube, not expecting to hook up with someone at the laundromat of all places.  But maybe Ty had some in that little kit of his.

Before he could answer that question, however, the bell over the door rang and Zane splayed his hands on Ty’s back as if he could cover him from view.  Ty shook in his arms, pressing his face to Zane’s neck in an attempt to stop the laughter that was rolling through him. “Do you have any other clothes?” Zane whispered in his ear, not surprised when Ty shook his head.  If he did, he probably wouldn’t have been sitting there in his boxer briefs.

Glancing over Ty’s shoulder, Zane watched a woman, probably in her eighties by the looks of her, place her basket on an available washer, seemingly oblivious to their presence.  She hummed under her breath, barely audible over the rumble of the machines and Ty’s muffled laughter. “Do you think your clothes are almost done?” Zane could leave his own behind and not think twice, but Ty wasn’t leaving this place without something on.  It might be Miami but even that would raise some brows. 

“Yeah,” Ty muttered, pulling away to go fetch them.  He stopped only a few inches from Zane and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before going back in for another kiss, something Zane happily granted.  There was no way this ended well. Fucking around with his extraction team was a recipe for disaster. But when Ty kissed like that, when Zane could feel hard muscle moving under soft skin, when he could feel just how much Ty wanted this too?  He wasn’t going to say no. It would take a much stronger man than Zane Garrett to say no to that. 

The two of them got lost in one another again, forgetting where they were and what they should be doing.  It was only when a washer on the far side of the room slammed shut that the present came back to them almost instantly. 

They jumped apart once more and Ty hurried for the drier to pull on his clothes before the woman noticed his near-nakedness.  

“Oh, don’t stop on my account, boys.  I remember what it was like to be young and  _ eager _ .”  Zane blushed, thankful the woman didn’t look up in their direction.  He didn’t think he could keep it together if she actually looked at them.  He couldn’t decide if he should be mortified or amused. A glance at Ty told him the other agent was struggling with the same problem. Though from the way his shoulders shook, Ty definitely leaned more towards amused. 

The woman didn’t stop, continuing as if she hadn’t just embarrassed them both.  “The washer over there is a little off balance if you want to add more of a  _ thrill _ .”  Zane lost his battle at keeping his laughter in check, bending over and covering his face as Ty did the same thing.  He grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head as quickly as he could while minding his injuries. 

“Thank you for the advice ma’am but I think we are on our way out.”  How Ty could sound so formal and professional while pulling on his clothes in a public place, Zane didn’t understand. But he intended to get to know the other agent - personally, professionally, and biblically - if Ty let him. 

Ty quickly pulled on his clothes while Zane strapped his weapons back on his person.  Even with another agent, he wouldn’t feel safe on the streets of Miami without a half dozen weapons at hand.  

Zane let out a bereft whimper as Ty finished dressing, though his tight t-shirt left little to the imagination as far as his muscular build was concerned.  Ty winked at him and sat to pull on his boots. “Going to get your stuff out of the wash?” 

Looking in the direction of his machine, Zane shook his head.  He didn’t need that. He could easily leave everything in Miami behind, his own belongings included.  “Nothing that important. Mostly killing time until you got here.” Not that he expected Ty specifically.  Not even his wildest imagination could have come up with someone that attractive. 

“After you, then,” Ty said with a bow.  Zane rolled his eyes and headed for the door, shrugging back into the heavy leather jacket before making it to the street.  Ty nodded at the woman with a soft, “Ma’am,” and followed Zane out into the humid Miami night.

Once out there, though, Zane didn’t know what to do with himself.  “Do we want to try and get an earlier flight?” It seemed the prudent thing to ask.  If they’d already made contact, there was no reason to linger in Miami another moment.  

No reason other than Zane really wanted to know what Ty’s skin tasted like and didn’t want to wait through a three-hour flight and unending debrief to find out.

Ty remained silent, grabbing Zane’s arm and tugging him towards an alley at the side of the laundromat. Once out of sight from any random passerby, Ty shoved him against the brick wall.  Zane’s hands flattened against the rough surface to try and slow his momentum but as soon as he was flush on the wall, he grabbed Ty by the hips and pulled him close. 

Their lips met in a heated kiss, any hesitation gone from their touch.  Zane’s lips parted the moment Ty’s tongue sought entrance and they only broke apart when breath became necessary.  “So, not going to the airport?” Zane quipped with a laugh.

“Not yet.”

He frowned, though his hands pulled Ty closer, hips rutting together even as he tried to speak.  “Quick fumble in an alley before the flight?” Wouldn’t be the first time for Zane, though it would be the first time with someone he worked with.  And someone he thought he would enjoy seeing again sometime.

Ty cocked a brow and smirked, a look that Zane figured got him punched more often than not but only served to fuel Zane’s desire more.  He growled and kissed Ty again, the other agent giving as good as he got. As Ty’s hands moved towards his belt, Zane was certain things could only get better from here. 

Until Ty’s phone began to ring and Zane dropped his head back against the brick wall, frustration battling desire as they both pulsed through him.  “Do not answer that.” The world could be burning around them and Zane didn’t fucking care. 

Ty gave him an apologetic smile and reached for the phone, not moving away even an inch.  “Grady.”

“Change of plans,” Zane heard the muffled voice from where Ty had him plastered to the wall.  Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be half as interesting as the man in front of him. Zane leaned forward to kiss Ty’s neck, sucking lightly over the pulse point and grinning when he heard a pained groan from the other man.  “Find Garrett,” the voice was saying. “You’re on the 6 AM flight out of Miami so track him down and bring him in. He may not come willingly but use whatever necessary to convince him.”

Ty’s voice was strained when he finally spoke and Zane figured he could take credit for that.  “I don’t think that will be an issue, sir. I’m certain I can convince him to come.” Zane pulled back to look at Ty, only to be rewarded with a cheeky wink.  He rolled his eyes and went back to the man’s neck. “Dick, I have this under control. We’ll be there by noon.” Ty disconnected and pulled Zane’s face back up to meet his, kissing him hungrily.   It only lasted for a minute, however, before he pressed a regretful last kiss to Zane’s lips and moved away. “Come on. We have a plane to catch.”

Zane knew from experience that Director Burns was not a man you wanted to piss off.  He also really didn’t care and tried to keep Ty next to him, but the other man danced out of his reach.  “Fuck Burns and his change of plans.”

“I’d rather fuck you,” Ty said, voice low and full of promise.  “But we need to get to DC before we can do that. Come on, beautiful, get your ass in gear.”

Grumbling under his breath, Zane pushed off the wall and followed reluctantly.  “I was rather hoping to do that  _ before  _ DC.”  

Ty’s answering laugh eased some of Zane’s frustration, and he took the man’s hand, leading him towards a street where they could find a cab despite the early hour. “Well, I have good news for you, Garrett.  They have laundromats in DC. And, if you’re really lucky, I might even let you use the ones at my house.”

Suddenly, the prospect of catching the flight didn’t sound so bad after all.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://astudyinfic.tumblr.com), [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/astudyinfic) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/astudyinfic)
> 
> Also, we made a [Cut & Run discord channel](https://discord.gg/KFfErkb) if anyone is interested in joining and yelling at us about the books we all love.


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